


The-Boy-Who-Lived?

by thecrimsonmonarch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Movie Reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-19 00:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3589650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecrimsonmonarch/pseuds/thecrimsonmonarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What had truly happened that night in the graveyard?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The-Boy-Who-Lived?

Two pairs of feet slammed into the ground, and a faintly glowing cup fell with a thump.

Two boys wearing the same kind of clothes (only different in color scheme - one with yellow and black, the other with red and gold) looked at their surroundings.

They were in what appeared to be a dark and overgrown graveyard.

"Did anyone tell  _you_  the cup was a Portkey?" asked the taller of the two as he eyed the cup in question. The bluish glow had already faded, and it looked innocent once more.

What could have happened? The cup was supposed to be the _finish line_ , wasn't it? Where exactly were they? Was this a part of the task? 

His questions came to a halt as he caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. He whipped his head back.

Over there, a few feet to his right, was a life-size statue of an angel holding a scythe.

Had it moved? He thought he had seen it move. He really wasn't one to imagine things.

"Wands out, d'you reckon?" He was feeling slightly nervous now. This  _really_  didn't seem to be part of the task. He took a step closer to the younger boy he had come with. 

"Harry?" he prodded.

Just as he was  _finally_  about to look back at the other boy to see why he wasn't saying anything, a gasp broke the silence. The elder male spun quickly around in time to see Harry Potter collapse to his knees.

Harry's head was bowed low, his chin touching his chest, and the heels of his palms pressing against his eyes. 

He advanced towards him. "Harry, are you-"

Then Harry was standing straight again, though his head was still bowed, and the tall boy stopped in his tracks.

"Cedric," Harry whispered. His voice sounded strange, Cedric thought – familiar and, at the same time, not. "Poor, unfortunate Cedric Diggory... You were never meant to come with me, you know..." His head rolled around his shoulders.

"Harry?"

"'Harry?'" parroted the other boy in a mockingly worried, high-pitched voice.

Cedric's hand immediately tightened on his wand.

Harry’s lips twisted in a feral smile. "Ah, let me tell you a story...

"There once was a boy, who attended a magical school... Everyone knew  _of him_ , yet nobody  _knew him_... Everyone adored him... Idolized him...

 _"…Trusted_  in him." He clucked his tongue. "They shouldn't have."

"Harry, this isn’t funny-"

An unrestrained laugh eerily echoed across the graveyard. "Are you actually as stupid as you look?"

Cedric took a step back. “I- what the-“

"ANSWER ME!" Harry roared, and Cedric could have sworn that, in that moment, green eyes bled red. 

"Are you as _stupid_ -"

Cedric gasped in pain as felt something sharpslash its way across his torso.

"As-“

Another slash-

“You-“

And another-

“ _LOOK!_ ”

The last slash turned out to be even more painful than the previous ones, and Cedric flew back with the force. His wand fell out of his hand, and he landed at the foot of the angel statue.

"No!” he hurriedly rasped out, curling in on himself and trembling in pain. “No, no, dear Merlin, _no_..."

Blood practically _flowed_ from the gashes across his chest and seeped through his clothes, making his yellow sweater take on a color more similar to the other boy's.

Harry smiled. “That's better.”

He prowled forward and stopped a few paces away from Cedric’s curled-up form.

“Now, haven't you ever thought it _suspicious_ , that  _Harry Potter's_  acts of heroism and valor were always conducted  _away_  from prying eyes?

“Haven't you ever thought it  _strange,_  that _Harry Potter_ had survived this long when who was said to be the  _greatest Dark Lord in centuries_  was after him?

“Haven't you ever considered the possibility that _all of it_... All of it  _might just be_  a finely-woven tale to appease the public, and to maintain a facade?"

Cedric was sure of it now – Harry’s eyes were really red.

"Everything _I_ claim to have done so far… No one can actually attest for any of it - you only have my word -  yet you believe me! Such blind faith!" He laughed. "Ah, it really is outstanding...  _Foolishly_ outstanding, but outstanding nonetheless…”

Then he did a sharp motion with his wand, and Cedric levitated off the ground and straightened in the air.

“I even speak _Parseltongue_ _!_ How deluded can you all be?"

Cedric’s body floated closer towards Harry, with a trail of blood marking his way. He jerked to a stop a foot away from the younger boy, then he dropped at his feet like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

"You see, Cedric...” Moonlight shone brightly behind Harry, and Cedric didn't know whether or whether not to be thankful that he can only see his silhouette. “The-Boy-Who-Lived never lived through that night."

Then he angled his head just right, and the shadows left his face. Cedric felt like his insides were being wrenched out of his throat.

"And tonight... neither will you."

The very last thing Cedric Diggory saw before a blinding green light consumed him was a pair of red slit-pupiled eyes.


End file.
